Patty's Motor Car

“Oh, open mine next!” cried Roger. “If you’re going to take us apart and tell us of your gratitude alone, I want to go right now!”

“You can’t,” said Patty. “You have to be thanked right before all the rest of the people! But this is great! You know I love these crazy things.”

Patty had opened Roger’s gift, and it was a grotesque bronze figure, representing some strange Japanese god. It was fascinating in its very ugliness, and was a really beautiful specimen of Japanese craft.

“You’re not eating any breakfast, Patty,” said Mr. Hepworth, suddenly. “Let me undo the next parcel, while you try some of this delicious omelette. I can vouch for its quality.”

“All right,” said Patty, “I am starving. And as a reward of merit, Mr. Hepworth, I’ll let you untie your own gift.”

“Good! I love to be in the limelight! Now this is mine, and may you enjoy it many times when I am far away.”

Then Mr. Hepworth displayed a very beautiful and complete automobile lunch basket, with fittings for two. It was of the finest design and workmanship, and the appointments were of the newest and best.

“Just what I want!” cried Patty. “Now I can go out for a whole-day picnic. And it’s such a lovely picnic basket! Mr. Hepworth, you do think of the loveliest things!”

The grateful glance that Patty gave him was met by one equally friendly, and, in order to escape drawing further attention to himself, Mr. Hepworth quickly opened the next parcel.

This proved to be Philip Van Reypen’s gift, and, as it was being opened, he said: “I, too, should have liked to bring you a really worthwhile gift; but I felt, Miss Fairfield, that I’m too much of a stranger to indulge in anything but the conventional ‘books, candy, or flowers.’ So I have brought you only a box of candy, but I hope you will have many happy returns of to-day, when I shall be an old friend, and can give you anything I choose.”

He looked enviously at the other men present, who had known Patty so much longer than he had; but, when his box of candy was finally released from its wrappings, everybody exclaimed in admiration. For it was by no means a simple box, but was really a French jewel case, whose various compartments were lined with tufted blue satin, and, though now filled with bonbons, were intended to hold trinkets. The outside was of French brocade, decorated with gold filigree and tiny French flowers. Altogether it was an exquisite piece of handicraft, and yet Mr. Van Reypen had, after all, only presented the conventional “box of candy.”

Nan was greatly pleased at his cleverness. She had liked Philip Van Reypen from the first, and he had proved himself a cultured and intelligent gentleman in every respect.

Kenneth’s gift was a fan; a point-lace mount, with pearl sticks. He had showed taste in the selection, and Patty was greatly pleased with it. Indeed, she was enraptured with all her lovely gifts, and fairly bubbled over with enthusiastic thanks.

“This is my present, Patty,” said Nan, producing a very long box. “It was too big to put on the table with the others, so please accept it, with the wish that it may prove useful some day.”

The long box contained a white-lace parasol, which was just the thing to be carried with Patty’s pretty summer costumes.

“Oh, Nan, what a duck you are!” she cried. “I suppose this is from you and father both, as I don’t see anything else from him.”

“Not so, not so, my child,” said Mr. Fairfield, taking a small box from his pocket. “On your nineteenth birthday I want to give you a gift all by myself.”

He handed Patty the box, and in it was a pearl ring. It was a beautiful pearl, and not too large for a young girl to wear. Everybody admired it, and Patty slipped it on her finger, and then, holding her lace parasol open above her head, she fanned herself with Kenneth’s fan. As she still wore Elise’s embroidered hat, she made a pretty picture of a typical summer girl.

“You look like a girl on a calendar,” said Roger; “rather fussily gotten up, but picturesque in a way!”

They all laughed at Roger’s speech, which really fitted the case, and then, breakfast being over, they gathered up Patty’s treasures and adjourned to the hall.

CHAPTER XV

A MORNING SWIM

“Now,” said Nan, “we must lay our plans. We’re going to celebrate Patty’s birthday, all day long; but there isn’t very much time in a day, after all, so you must all choose what you think would be the most fun to do. We’re going to the Country Club for luncheon, which is a motor trip of about twenty miles. Then we’ll come back, and this evening there will be a little dinner dance, which is, of course, the real birthday party. Now you’ve about two hours before we start this morning. What do you want to do?”

“I’m for a dip in the ocean,” declared Philip Van Reypen. “Does that hit anybody else?”

“Me!” exclaimed Roger, and, “Me, too,” declared Elise.

“I’d love to bathe,” said Christine, “if it isn’t too cold. Is the water chilly, now, Patty?”

“It is a little,” admitted Patty; “at least, it was day before yesterday. I haven’t been in since. But to-day is a whole lot warmer. I don’t believe it will be too cold, Christine.”

“Let’s all go in,” proposed Elise, “and then, if it is too chilly, we can turn around and come right out again.”

This plan suited, and the girls ran away for their bathing suits.

Patty’s was white, trimmed with light blue, and was exceedingly becoming. Her gold curls were tied up in a light-blue silk handkerchief, from which a few ringlets persisted in escaping, though she kept tucking them back.

“Let them hang down, Patty,” said Roger; “the salt water won’t take the curl out!”

“No,” said Patty, laughing, “it makes it curl tighter than ever!”

“I envy you that,” said Christine. “I always wanted curly hair.”

“You needn’t,” said Patty. “Your soft, sleek bands are much better suited to your face than my corkscrews would be.”

Mr. Hepworth laughed at this, for Patty’s curls when wet turned into veritable corkscrews, which hung from her temples like those of an old-fashioned belle.

Christine’s rather plain bathing suit was of navy blue, trimmed with white braid, but Elise was gorgeous in a suit of scarlet and black, with her hair tied up in a red bandanna.

Nan’s suit was entirely of black, and was both pretty and becoming; and, as Mr. Van Reypen surveyed the group, he said: “Well, you are a bunch of naiads! You look like one of Sorolla’s pictures, except that we haven’t any of his pumpkin-coloured light and purply-green shadows.”

“H’m!” commented Hepworth; “much you know about Sorolla’s work, if you express it in those terms.”

“Well, you see I’m not an artist,” said Van Reypen, for Mr. Hepworth’s tone was so good-natured he couldn’t feel annoyed.

“Who can swim?” Philip went on. “I’m for a long dash out to that farthest buoy.”

“I can swim,” returned Patty, “but I won’t go as far out as that buoy. I’ll swim part way.”

“Come on, then;” and the two splashed into the breakers. Patty was a good swimmer, and there was not much surf that morning, so she had no trouble in keeping up with Philip for a fairly good distance. Then she said: “Now I’m going to turn back, Mr. Van Reypen. I’ve learned by experience that it is better to turn back while we can.”

Van Reypen looked at her reproachfully as they swam slowly side by side. “You called me Philip, last night,” he said.

“I know it;” and Patty smiled roguishly; “but, you see, that was under stress of a great emergency. I scarcely realised what I was doing, – and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you only on condition that you never call me Mr. Van Reypen again, and that you give me permission to call you Patty.”

“Aren’t you demanding a great deal?”

“Yes, I am, indeed; but you are so generous-minded that I have a hope of your consent.”

“I’ll race you to shore for it,” said Patty. “If you win, first names go; if I win, we shall continue with the more formal names.”

“All right; it’s an unfair advantage, but I’m going to take it. Of course, I can beat you swimming to shore, but I’ll lag behind a little, and let you think you’re winning, and then pass you with a grand finish.”

“Oh, I don’t know!” said Patty, teasingly, and then they both headed toward shore and swam rapidly.

As he had proposed, Philip kept a few lengths behind her, meanwhile gasping and shouting that he was almost exhausted, and that he feared he could never reach land.

Patty knew this was merely joking, and that soon, with a few strong strokes, he would pass her and come in a long distance ahead. But she had no intention of being beaten so easily. When nearly halfway to land, she saw Kenneth swimming toward her. As they met, she said, “Turn round and swim with me, Ken; quick!”

He did so, and Patty went on, talking rapidly: “I want you to do something for me, Ken. Let me go on, and you turn and delay Mr. Van Reypen. I don’t care what you do, – talk to him, duck him, or tease him in any way, – but somehow or other keep him back until I reach shore, and don’t let him know you’re doing it purposely.”

“All right, count on me;” and Kenneth turned, and circled leisurely around, until he came face to face with Philip Van Reypen. “Hello!” he said. “You’re a ripping good swimmer! I want to show you a new stunt I learned lately. Mighty few could appreciate it, as I know you can.”

“Some other time, Harper,” hastily spoke Mr. Van Reypen. “I want to speak to Miss Fairfield just now.”

“Oh, she won’t mind,” said Kenneth, taking care to keep directly in Van Reypen’s way. “You see, you start sideways and then – ”

“Oh, I say, Harper, wait till some other time! Let me pass, please. I’ll be back in ten minutes, and glad to learn your new trick.”

“Well, you needn’t be stuffy about it!”

“Oh, I’m not stuffy, my boy, only – ”

“Then I’ll show you now. You see, you swim on one side;” and, before Van Reypen realised what was happening to him, Kenneth had grasped his arm and gently but steadily pushed him around until he was headed out to sea again.

At this moment Patty reached the beach, as Kenneth saw out of the corner of his eye, and, suddenly changing his tone, he said: “By George! Van Reypen, I believe you were in earnest! In that case, I’m sorry I insisted. Of course, I’ll teach you the trick some other time! Go ahead, if you want to speak to Miss Fairfield. She’s right over there.”

Thus disarmed, Philip couldn’t answer Kenneth angrily, and, suppressing his chagrin, he said: “All right, old chap, and thank you. We’ll go for a swim together, to-morrow morning, and then I’ll be glad to learn your new stunt.”

Kenneth felt a little ashamed of his subterfuge, for he was of a frank, honest nature. But he had done it for Patty, and he felt sure that the whole thing was some merry jest.

Freed from his tormentor, Van Reypen struck out swiftly for the shore, and the next moment, throwing himself on to a big breaker, he was washed up on the beach at Patty’s side.

“How do you do, Mr. Van Reypen?” said that mischievous damsel, smiling at him under her corkscrew curls.

“It wasn’t fair!” growled Philip; “I was delayed. Harper stopped me, and I couldn’t get away from him!”

“Oh, that’s a pretty excuse,” chaffed Patty. “I heard you say that you were almost exhausted and out of breath, and you were puffing like a whale!”

“Oh, that was mere foolery! I didn’t mean a word of it! I’m not a bit blown. I could swim for miles!”

“That all sounds very well, but I think you’ll have to admit that I won the race.”

“The race is not always to the swift, – but I admit gracefully that you did reach the beach first, and I herewith relinquish all hope of ever being allowed the privilege I had requested.”

“Oh, don’t give up too easily!” said Patty, though she well knew that his speech was not made in earnest.

“Come along, Patty!” cried Nan. “Unless you want to go motoring in a wet bathing suit, you must scamper into some dry clothes. Come along with us, we’re all going now.”

The crowd of bathers dispersed, and, as there was need for expedition, in less than a half an hour they reassembled, clad in civilian’s garb and all ready for the picnic.

The girls’ light frocks were covered with voluminous motor-coats, and they all wore pretty motor-hoods or bonnets of soft-coloured silks.

Three cars were necessary to accommodate the luncheon party, and it was quite a gala procession that started from “The Pebbles.”

First was Mr. Fairfield’s own big car, driven by Miller, and containing Mr. Fairfield and Nan, Christine and Mr. Hepworth.

This was followed by a runabout, which Mr. Fairfield had engaged for the occasion, and which was driven by Roger.

This car held two in front, with a small rear seat for another. Philip Van Reypen sat next to Roger, and Elise sat alone in the small back seat, saying she had always wanted to try such a position, but had never before had opportunity.

“Hang on, then, Sis,” warned Roger, as they started, “for I don’t want to stop and run back to pick you up all the time.”

“No danger,” said Elise, merrily; “but it is fun! I feel like an enthroned princess.”

“You look like one, too,” said Van Reypen, getting in beside Roger; “and we are your two Gold-sticks in Waiting.”

The Swift Camilla brought up the rear of the procession, and in it were Patty and Kenneth. Kenneth had begged for this arrangement, as he said he had not yet had a ride in Patty’s new car.

“Neither have I,” declared Mr. Hepworth, and, after a moment’s consideration, Patty said that she would take Kenneth half the way and then exchange him for Mr. Hepworth.

“And nothing could be fairer nor that,” declared Kenneth, as he accepted his fate.

It was a perfect day for motoring – bright, clear, and not too cool. Spring flowers were in bloom in the gardens, and palms and shrubbery, carefully kept, made the lawns picturesque.

“Ideal place to spend a summer,” said Kenneth to Patty, as they flew along, “and great roads for motoring.”

“Yes, it is,” agreed Patty. “The others want to go to the mountains in August, but I’m just crazy to stay here all summer. Perhaps I can persuade them to go off by themselves, and leave me here. I could have some one to chaperon me.”

“Of course you could; that would be gay. I expect Aunt Rachel would come, if you wanted her.”

“She’s a dear old thing, – nobody I’d like better! But I haven’t dared broach the subject yet. Don’t say anything about it.”

“All right, I won’t. But I say, Patty, what was that deal you had on with Van Reypen? He was awful mad when I held him up out in the water.”

“Oh, it was nothing but foolishness!” said Patty, laughing at the recollection. “I promised him that, if he beat me to the shore, we’d call each other by our first names, – otherwise not.”

“That was a nice wager!” exclaimed Kenneth, in disgruntled tones. “Why, Patty, you don’t know that chap well enough to call him by his first name!”

“Nonsense, Ken; I’m not grown-up and formal.”

“Well, he is!”

Patty laughed mischievously. “He is grown-up, but he isn’t a bit formal.”

“I should say not! I can tell you I didn’t like the way he carted you off last night!”

“Oh, Kenneth, what a goose you are! You know the whole story of that performance. He couldn’t help the strap breaking, and, if my father didn’t bother about it, I don’t think you need to!”

“That’s the same as telling me it’s none of my business.”

“Well, I didn’t mean it exactly that way, but, all the same, it isn’t! Don’t you like Mr. Van Reypen?”

“Yes, I do; he’s a rattling good chap. But I don’t want him coming down here and monopolising you for motoring and swimming and everything else. I s’pose you’ll give him every other dance, to-night.”

Patty drew down the corners of her lips and made a sobbing sound in her throat, as if she were on the verge of bursting into tears.

“D-don’t sco-o-ld me, K-kenneth!” she pleaded, in a voice which she meant to sound tearful, but which was choking with laughter, and didn’t fool Kenneth a bit.

“You’re a little coquette, that’s what you are, Patty; and I won’t stand it! I knew you long before Van Reypen did, and he’s not going to cut me out, I can tell you!”

“Good gracious, Kenneth! I should say he wasn’t! Why, he’s only an acquaintance, and you’re one of my oldest friends!”

“Of course I am;” and Patty’s hearty tone made Kenneth feel a little ashamed of his flash of jealousy.

“Well, then, don’t let me hear any more such foolish talk! Here I am taking you ridy-by in my dear little car, and, instead of appreciating it, you scold me all to pieces!”

“Forgive me, Patty; I am a brute. But somehow Van Reypen has such a way with him. He acts as if he owned you and this car – ”

“And ‘The Pebbles’ and father and Nan,” supplemented Patty, going off into a peal of laughter. “Well, Ken, I can’t see any way for you to get even with him but to act as if you owned us all yourself.”

“I can’t do it,” said Kenneth; “I haven’t that arrogance of nature.”

“What a pity!” said Patty, looking at him, with laughing eyes.

CHAPTER XVI

A CHANGE OF PARTNERS

Their foolish little squabble over, Patty and Kenneth were as good chums as ever, and they skimmed along in the same satisfied friendliness they always felt when together.

All too soon, in Kenneth’s opinion, they had traversed half their journey, and reached the place where it had been arranged that Patty was to change her companion and give Mr. Hepworth his ride.

The big car was waiting for them as they came along, and, though Kenneth said “Confound it!” to Patty, under his breath, no one else heard it, and he exchanged places with Hepworth with a smiling, agreeable countenance.

The transfer being effected, the two cars started on again.

Patty drove, and Mr. Hepworth watched her with admiration and interest.

“You’re a wonderful child,” he said; “you can do almost anything you turn your hand to.”

“Indeed, I can’t,” returned Patty; “I can’t paint like Christine.”

“Oh, well, that’s a special talent of hers. Your special talent is your singing. But I mean you can do all sorts of other things, like guessing puzzles and running motor cars.”

“Yes, so I can; but don’t forget that, if you hadn’t guessed that last charade for me, and an unfair one at that, I never should have had this car. So you see the car is partly yours.”

“Well, I’ll take out my share in going riding with you.”

“Wouldn’t you like to drive it yourself, some day, Mr. Hepworth? You could take Christine out.”

“Christine! I’d rather take you.”

“Rather take me than Christine Farley?” Patty’s blue eyes opened wide, and it was plain to be seen that her surprise at this statement was unfeigned, and by no means a bit of coquetry. But it piqued Gilbert Hepworth, and he answered, a little shortly:

“You know I would! Why do you pretend otherwise?”

“I don’t know any such thing! Christine is your special friend.”

“And aren’t you my special friend?”

“Why, not exactly;” and Patty’s cheeks dimpled as she smiled. “I’m your special friend’s daughter. Isn’t daddy your special friend?”

“Yes, of course;” and Mr. Hepworth looked decidedly cross, as he always did when reminded of the difference of age between himself and Patty, – a thing which Patty never seemed to forget.

“But just now,” he went on, “you’re so absorbed in your special friend, Van Reypen, that you have no thought of anybody else.”

“For the land’s sake!” exclaimed Patty; “and that’s an expression I use only on the strongest provocation! But I’ll tell you something, Mr. Hepworth,” – and she looked at him squarely, – “when Kenneth Harper was with me just now, he held me up on account of what he called my friendship for Mr. Van Reypen! Now, if you’re going to do the same thing, I give you fair warning, I’ll put you out and I’ll take Philip Van Reypen in this car! So there, now!”

Mr. Hepworth laughed at the flashing eyes, and the rose-flushed cheeks that faced him, very much like an angry kitten.

“Forgive us both, Patty,” he said, smiling in spite of himself at the ridiculous situation. “You see, the truth is Kenneth and I are both jealous of your new friend. And you’ll probably find that Roger is in the same unenviable frame of mind.”

“Fiddle-de-dee, and fiddlesticks, and fiddle-strings!” exclaimed Patty; “you people all make me tired, you do. As you know, I adore all my friends, and I want them all to adore me, and, when I make new friends, they’ve all got to adore each other, too, and that’s all there is about that! But don’t you worry over old Roger. He’s fallen a victim to the charms of Mona Galbraith. I never was so surprised in my life! You know, I don’t like that girl very much, and last night, as soon as Roger met her, they immediately fell into a deep friendship!”

“Why don’t you like her?”

“Oh, she isn’t exactly our sort. She’s a little forward, a little pushing, and a little lacking in certain varieties of good taste. But she’s warm-hearted and generous, and, if she had had proper training, would have been an awfully nice girl.”

“Can’t you help her, Patty?”

“Yes, Mr. Hepworth, I can; but I don’t want to.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

“Only because I’m a horrid thing! I know that, if I begin to help her, she’ll want to be helped every minute in the day, and I’ll have my hands full. I suppose I’m lazy and selfish, but I do hate to take that girl’s bringing-up on my shoulders.”

“I don’t blame you altogether, Patty;” and Gilbert Hepworth smiled at her gravely, yet kindly. “But don’t you exaggerate a little bit? I know what you mean. I saw last night what insistent ways Miss Galbraith has, and I know her demands on your time and attention would be incessant. But, Patty, think how much you have! – not only worldly goods, but love and care and protection and interested sympathy. Isn’t it your duty to do what you can for this strange girl, thrown so definitely in your way?”

“She is in my way,” said Patty, pouting; “very much so!”

“And do you realise,” went on Mr. Hepworth, very seriously now, “that, just because of all this love and praise and appreciation you receive, you run a pretty strong chance of becoming selfish and self-centred?”

“Mr. Hepworth! I do believe you are lecturing me!”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve done it before, and never has it failed to produce a good effect. I’m very fond of you, Patty, as you know perfectly well; and I cannot bear to see your sunny and generous nature spoiled by indolence or thoughtlessness on your part. Now I’m going to drop this lecture right straight now. I’ve said all that is necessary, and I know it has sunk in your heart deeply, as I intended it to. And I know that you will overcome your dislike and disinclination for the work, but that you will honestly and definitely try to do all you can for that girl, and be all you can to her.”

For a moment Patty was silent, and then she said, in a low voice: “You are right, Mr. Hepworth, as you always are. I understand all you have said, and all you have meant, and I make you no promises; but I promise myself to do all I can for Mona Galbraith, to help her in the way she needs help.”

“That’s my little trump!” exclaimed Mr. Hepworth, in a voice which betrayed a thrill of real emotion, and then he quickly changed the subject and called Patty’s attention to a picturesque bit of landscape in the middle distance.

The rest of their ride they chatted in a lighter key, with no reference to duty, and, when they reached the Country Club, they were both laughing merrily as they joined the rest of the party.

“I’m as hungry as a hunter!” cried Patty, springing from her car. “I wish I’d brought Mr. Hepworth’s luncheon basket, well filled, along with me.”

“You’ll have luncheon enough, Puss,” said her father, “and, as we’re a little later than I expected, we’ll have it served right away.”

The Country Club House was an elaborate one, with broad verandas and large, high-ceilinged halls and rooms. The walls bore the usual decorations of antlers and other trophies of the chase, and the appointments were luxurious and comfortable.

Patty had never been to just such a place before, and was interested in it all.

“Can’t we become members, father?” she asked, as its plan and scope were explained to her.